


Playing With Ravens

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica, Alive Vernon Boyd, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, BAMF Stiles, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Derek is a Good Alpha, F/M, Good Peter, M/M, Not an alpha Scott, Sheriff's name is John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1314811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claudia loved telling her son stories about other ravens. Of trickster gods, carriers of the dead. Beings that bring ill omens in one culture, and bring good luck in others. It was a little joke between them, and between the stories, she'd tell him true things. Things about their people. About Ravens.<br/>Stiles still hasn't managed to go into their attic ever since she died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing With Ravens

_She's gone. Forever. Never coming back. Only things that are left are in the attic. Just past this door. All those stories she told me. And she's gone. ___

__Stiles could feel the panic coming over. He knew he was breathing in quick shallow gasps._ _

__"Shit." he whimpered._ _

__In. Out. In. Out._ _

_It's okay. Just her books. It's just her books. Our books... My books. I've been in here thousands of times. It's just a room. Just a room. With walls, and a door, and windows, and those light purple curtains mom and I picked out during when I was sick that one year. Mom alw- ___

"Stiles." A rough voice growled.

"Ah!" His eyes snapped open, and he scrambled farther back towards the stairs.

Derek's hand flung back, catching him, as he started slipping down. 

"So..." He coughed awkwardly. Red embarrassment tinging his cheeks. 

The man dropped him somewhat harshly.

"I could hear your heart."

"My hea-werewolf right." He scoffed. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Your heart. It was beating distressingly fast. You smell panicked" His nose did that over exaggerated nose scrunch all the wolves seemed to do. "Are you alright?"

"It's none of your business." He snapped. Springing up, he brushed dust off his pants, in some sort of hope of retaining some of his lost dignity. "And that still doesn't tell me why you're here. What do you want. Is it some new monster? Is it pixies? I feel like pixies would be terrible things to deal with." He gestured wildly in his usual manor.

Derek stared him down before starting slowly.  
"Peter told me to tell you to pick up the coffee, before you come over?" The disbelief and confusion evident in his tone.

"Really, that's all?" Stiles pulled his eyebrows in. Hoping it came across as condescending. 

The alpha gave him a quick shrug before running off. 

"I don't believe you!" Stiles shouted. "If the zombie wanted to contact me he has my number! Unless his phone broke, in which he'd just steal yours! And he owes me coffee for last time!"

 

 

 

He stared at the now empty space for quite a bit of time, before resting his hand on the door nob.

1....2....3 

The door creaked. The young man winced. The door's squeal didn't seem appropriate that the room he and his mom spent hours in, planning pranks and reading stories, would squeak. He wouldn't lie to himself and say that it didn't hurt a little. 

It was all the same. Nothing had been touched. The bookshelves were filled with stories and fairy tales from across the world, the pile of blankets in the corner that they'd use to snuggle on the window seat together. The purple curtains had faded into an almost white shade though, and dust had settled its grey sheets over everything, but it wasn't like it wasn't something that couldn't be cleaned.

________________Sheriff___________

   
John opened the door. He did his habitual actions of taking off his jacket, shoes and going through the refrigerator for leftovers to eat.

The sink was still full. He huffed.

"Stiles!" John called. "It's your turn to wash the dishes tonight!" 

Silence. Stiles was almost never silent. Even when he wasn't talking he had some sort of noise going on around him.

His heart picked up. 

He rushed up the stairs. Halting immediately at the sight of the open attic door. 

Tiptoeing he made his way towards that door. The one he and his son never mentioned, to spare each other a heart wrenching conversation, that neither could fully cope with. 

He poked his head in quickly. Half wanting to check that his son was alright, and not wanting to disturb whatever moment his son was experiencing.

His heart immediately quelled, and a fond yet exasperated smile grew on his face. 

Stiles was half lying on the window seat. Wrapped in a blanket, head resting on the floor and feet flopped against the window. One of Claudia's old polish tomes lied open carefully near the wall.

John slowly closed the door, wincing as it squeaked. Knowing Stiles, that wouldn't cause him to wake up, but lately he'd been so hypervigilant. He put one ear to the door, chuckling softly when he heard his son mumble something, and both legs flopping on the floor. Stiles could do the dishes a later night. Heaven knows the kid could use some sleep, especially with his inconsistent sleep cycle. 

Plus if he put extra ranch on his salad, who could tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh this my first fic, so um enjoy. I don't know how often I'll update and stuff but I'll try to do it at least once a week, but no promises here. And please tell me how it is so far. -SH out!


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